Crimson River (The Edens)

I wasn’t the type of man who got lost. North. South. East. West. My internal compass had always read true.

But damn if I couldn’t let myself get lost in Montana.

As I stood on top of a rock outcropping, the view in front of me was nothing less than magnificent. Far in the distance was an indigo mountain range. Between us, the foothills were a spectacular mix of greens and golds. Snow dusted the treetops a sparkling white. Miles away, the river meandered through the valley, cutting its winding path through the landscape.

I filled my lungs with the cold, fresh air, holding it until it burned. Until it chased away any doubt.

This was it.

The last day.

Beneath the tree trunks, three inches of snow blanketed needles and fallen leaves. It was different than last weekend’s snow. It was here to stay. Even if the weather warmed in town, the temperatures wouldn’t change much out here. The flakes that had fallen last night were here until spring. They were here to stay.

There’d be no hiding my presence anymore. There’d be no covering my tracks. If Cormac was out here, he’d likely know about me long before I knew about him.

And if I was being honest with myself, there was probably nothing to find.

There’d probably been nothing to find all month.

I’d only scoured a fraction of these mountains. The area was so vast, so untamed, I could have spent a year searching and still missed Cormac. It was time to face the truth.

He wins. He’d beaten me, time after time.

It burned. It fucking burned. The leather of my gloves squeaked as my hands balled into tight fists. Admitting defeat wasn’t in my nature, but goddamn, he’d beaten me.

It was a strange mix of emotions, the frustration that came with even thinking Cormac’s name and the way I felt so at peace staring out at the Montana landscape. In the end, the rage won.

“Fuck you, Cormac.” The words vanished on a breeze.

With them, justice. With them, resolution. With them, hope.

It wasn’t fucking fair.

He wins.

“I’m sorry, Norah. Goddamn it, I’m sorry, girls.”

My throat started to close, thinking about their bright faces. About the lives they should have lived. Their father, their flesh and blood, had robbed them blind.

“Fuck you, Cormac!” My scream bounced off the cliffs at my back, echoing in the distance for no one to hear.

The pain in my chest was crippling.

I’m sorry.

I squeezed my eyes shut, the failure so heavy on my shoulders it sent me to a knee.

I’m sorry, Lyla.

How did I tell her that I was giving up? How did I crush her hope?

How did I say goodbye?

I shifted, falling to a seat, then propped my forearms on my knees. The snow beneath me began to melt and soak through the thick canvas of my pants. But even as my ass got wet, I kept my eye on the view, clinging to its peace. Its silence.

This used to be my dream, spending my days in the mountains in solitude.

When had it gotten so lonely? When had it gotten so . . . cold?

The best day I’d had in these mountains was the day I’d brought Lyla to her waterfall. The day I’d remembered how nice it was to have someone else on the trail.

That someone used to be Cormac. We’d spent countless hours together. Talking about nothing. Talking about everything.

God, I missed my friend. I hated that I missed him. His absence had left a jagged hole.

What would happen when I left Quincy? How big of a piece would I leave here with Lyla?

I sighed and hung my head.

The past week had been equally incredible and agonizing. In the midnight hours, we clung to each other, savoring every moment. Every touch. If we were alone, then I was inside her.

Lyla Eden.

Blue.

The surprise of my life.

I huffed a laugh. That son of a bitch Cormac. If not for him, I wouldn’t have met her. I hated him for what he’d done to her. For the marks he’d left, both physical and mental. But damn, I was glad to have found her.

Even if it was only for a month.

“Fuck you, Cormac,” I whispered.

He won.

But maybe I won too.

Maybe it was time to take a look at the baggage I’d been carrying. Maybe it was time to make some changes.

I kept my seat, staring into the distance until my ass was soaking wet and starting to go numb. It was only when the sun started to sink that I stood, put one foot in front of the other and made my way off this mountain to my truck.

The moment I was behind the wheel, the door closed, the silence might as well have been the lid closing on a coffin.

Done. It was done.

The next time a tip or lead came in about Cormac, I wasn’t chasing it.

So I started the truck and put my foot on the gas pedal, keeping my eyes glued to the road as the mountains and trees streaked past my windshield.

With every mile, the pressure in my chest loosened, but it took the entire drive to Quincy for my shoulders to relax. And I didn’t take my first deep breath until I was parked outside Eden Coffee.

Lyla was inside. She had her back to the windows, her hip leaned against the counter. Her hair was swept into a ponytail, the silky strands falling down her spine.

Fuck, but I’d miss that hair draped across my chest as we slept.

She was talking to Crystal, who was making something at the espresso machine. Lyla shoved off the counter, smiling as she disappeared into the kitchen.

I climbed out of the truck and walked inside, not bothering to stop at the counter.

“Um . . .” Crystal’s wide-eyed look got ignored as I headed for the kitchen.

When I walked through the open doorway, Lyla looked up from her place beside a large, stainless steel table in the center of the room. Her face lit up like a supermoon against an inky night sky. “Hey.”

Yeah, I’d won too.

I crossed the distance between us, taking her face in my hands.

“Are you ok—”

I crushed my mouth to hers.

It took her a heartbeat to relax, but then her hands came to my coat, gripping the lapels as she rose up on her toes.

I licked the seam of her lips, demanding entry, and when she opened for me, I devoured, tasting every sweet inch of this woman’s mouth while I still had the chance.

She hummed, sinking deeper into the kiss. Her hands shifted, roaming my chest and trailing down my ribs. She pressed her palms against my back, flattening them against my muscles as she slid them to my pants. Then she tucked her hands into my back pockets and gave my ass a hard knead as I nipped at the corner of her mouth.

We kissed like we were in her bedroom, not a kitchen. We kissed like there was no tomorrow, sucking and licking until our mouths were swollen and wet. Until she was breathless and I was rock hard, aching to feel her pulse around my cock.

I tore my mouth away, chest heaving, and drowned in her sapphire eyes. “Hey, Blue.”

My Blue. For a little while longer.

“Hi,” she whispered.

I leaned my forehead against hers. “It will be hard to walk away from you.”

Her eyes closed as she sighed. “It will be hard to watch you walk away.”

But she would. She’d let me go.

She wouldn’t ask me to stay.

There was so much she still didn’t know. So much I wasn’t sure how to explain.

Yet somehow, she knew I couldn’t stay in Quincy.

The best part about her? She wouldn’t ask, because she wouldn’t make me tell her no.

Fuck, but I loved that about her.

The emotions from today, from this trip, swirled like a violent storm. So I blocked out the noise, I silenced it all by kissing Lyla again. The moment my mouth was on hers, the world went quiet. The only emotion that mattered was desire.

“Oh, um . . . sorry.”

Lyla broke away at Crystal’s voice.

Busted.

She giggled.

The sound was so pure and innocent, so happy, that I closed my eyes, bottling it up for the dark days ahead.

Lyla’s hand came to her mouth as she leaned to the side and glanced past my arm. “It’s fine, Crystal. We were just, uh . . .”

Making out. When it came to Lyla, I was like a randy teenager, desperate to have her beneath my hands.

Lyla cleared her throat, stepping around me. “I don’t think you two have officially met. Vance, this is Crystal. Crystal, this is Vance.”

I turned enough to give her a nod but not enough to reveal the bulge straining my zipper. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Sorry. I was going to get the broom and dustpan, but I’ll just . . .” Crystal disappeared as her sentence trailed off.

“Oh my God.” Lyla laughed again, then wiped her lips dry. “That was arguably worse than the time my dad caught me kissing my boyfriend in the back seat of his car my senior year of high school.”

I held up a finger. “No more talk about the high school boyfriend.”

She laughed, those pretty eyes dancing. “How was your hike?”

“Fine.” I’d tell her later it was the last. Later, after I’d braced myself to see that light dim in her eyes. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Are you leaving?”

Not yet. “I’m going to get some coffee. Eat something.”

“Crystal is leaving in about an hour. She has a family thing tonight, so I’ll have to close. But since it’s Sunday, it will be earlier than normal.”

“I’ll hang out until you’re done.” Just like last night. And all the nights this past week. When I drove to her house, it would be to follow her home and carry her to bed.

“Okay.” Her shoulders fell, relief washing over her expression. “I’ll make us dinner later.”

“Or I can cook.”

She arched an eyebrow.

“I do know how to cook.”

“All right, Sutter.” She came over and tugged on my coat, my sign to bend so she could have her kiss. “You’re on.”

I chuckled and left her in the kitchen, knowing I’d just truly fucked myself. Compared to Lyla, I was a shit cook. But I’d make her grilled cheese or scrambled eggs.

After an orgasm.

My table was empty, like it always was. It was colder by the windows, probably why most chose to sit deeper in the café. Fine by me.

I swung by the counter, ordered a coffee and almond poppy seed muffin, then retreated to my chair to stare out the front windows.

The maps were in my backpack, locked in my truck. I didn’t need them anymore.

My phone vibrated in my pocket with a text. I took it out. Alec.

Are you back home?

I typed out my reply.

Not quite

Alec had sent me a few texts in the past weeks, checking to see if I’d found any trail of Cormac. Our exchanges had been brief.

Once I got home, we’d go out for a beer. I’d fill him in on what had happened here. Well, most of what had happened.

Lyla, I’d keep to myself. She’d be mine and mine alone.

I was just putting my phone down on the table when a flash of red out the window caught my eye. Like I had for four years, that ginger hair snared my attention.

A woman passed the window. The curtain of her hair hid most of her features. Most, but not all. It didn’t hide the high cheekbones. The straight nose. The familiar chin and unsmiling mouth.

“What the . . .”

I knew that face.

I flew out of my chair, standing so fast that the backs of my knees sent it scraping across the floor.

The woman outside was gone in a blink. So fast it was like she hadn’t been there to begin with.

No. No, it couldn’t be her. She was dead. In my mind, I knew she was dead. But fuck, the resemblance was uncanny.

“Vance?” Lyla rushed over, a coffee pot in hand.

“One sec.” I held up a finger, rounding the table.

Curiosity, that red hair, got the better of me, like it had for four years. So I walked to the door, ripping it open as I hurried outside.

I needed a closer look. I needed to get that face out of my damn mind.

Except there was no redheaded woman on the sidewalk. Whoever she was, she was gone.

I jogged to the nearest corner, searching the side street. Empty. I spun in a slow circle, looking everywhere, for a hint of that red. By the jewelry store. The hotel. The bank. Nothing.

There was no redhead. The only woman on the sidewalk was Lyla.

“Vance.” She jogged my way from the coffee shop, her breath billowing. She wasn’t wearing a coat, so I shrugged out of mine, draping it around her shoulders.

“Wear this.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” Just me losing my fucking mind. I scrubbed a hand over my face, then sighed. “I’m just . . . seeing ghosts.”